


Christmas in July

by islandkate



Category: Being Human (UK), The Almighty Johnsons
Genre: Allergies, M/M, Norwegian food
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-08
Updated: 2019-06-08
Packaged: 2020-04-23 00:12:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19139686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/islandkate/pseuds/islandkate
Summary: Mitchell really missed a white Christmas, so Anders found a way.  But nothing ever goes quite that easy with the Johnson family...





	Christmas in July

Christmas in July.  Even a hard core PR man like Anders Johnson had to shake his head at the sheer commercialism of his American counterparts coming up with that ridiculous idea.  Still, here he was, on the twenty-fifth of July, bedecked in a Christmas jumper bearing a portrait of The Grinch with a lecherous grin and proclaiming, “Define naughty.”

The love of his life was busy making a traditional Norwegian Christmas dinner in the kitchen.  Anders had no idea what lutefisk, pinnekjøtt, and surkaal were, but he recognized fish, lamb, cabbage, potatoes and gravy.  Besides, Mitchell had plied him with enough of something called Akvavit to make him agree to anything.

From his current position perched on the bar, next to the bottle of Akvavit, he had a clear view of Mitchell as he cooked in stupidly tight jeans, fuzzy slippers, and a pinafore style apron that emphasized every curve of his ass.  The apron had been George and Annie’s contribution to this enterprise, along with Anders’ jumper. Seeing his Irish vampire so happy made all the holiday carols and videos, not to mention the decorations festooning every square inch of their apartment, worthwhile.

He swayed a bit as he watched Mitchell come towards him with a spoon in one hand, the other cradled underneath to catch any drips.

“Taste this?”

“Heaven,” Anders replied.

Mitchell frowned at the half-empty bottle.  “The gravy or the booze?”

“You,” and Anders pulled him in for a kiss that turned into a passionate snog.  The spoon went flying. Neither cared.

Mitchell had to reluctantly pull himself loose before something burned.

“My little house bat,” Anders giggled.

Mitchell took the bottle of Akvavit and put it in the refrigerator.  Then he lifted Anders off the counter and set him on his feet, steadying him.  “Have a glass of water while I finish dinner.” He handed the shorter man a bottle of water and patted his ass to herd him in the direction of the dining room table.

Dinner was a complete success.  Both ate until they felt their stomachs might burst.  Anders, always a fan of seafood, had been quite fond of the lutefisk and was happy to see that there were leftovers.  Mitchell carefully stowed the leftovers in individual containers while Anders loaded the dishwasher. Working together, they had the washing up done in less than fifteen minutes.

They celebrated by collapsing on the couch together to watch Die Hard - their compromise Christmas movie.  They never even heard John McClain utter “yippee ki-yay” before they were fast asleep.

Olaf called sometime near midnight, probably sniffing around for leftovers, but they let it go to voicemail and dragged themselves to the bathroom and bed.  Mitchell noticed that Anders walked a little funny, but sleepily congratulated himself on how well he must have fucked him that morning.

 

Despite their food coma, both woke up starving.  Mitchell substituted the leftover lutefisk for kippers and them made a quick breakfast with lots of coffee.  Anders had to get to the office and he had a day shift. Anders was still walking funny, but they didn’t have time to deal with it.

 

By the time they both got home, they were ravenous again, but not just for food.  They’d gone to bed without so much as handies and were both really horny. Because he had gotten home first, Anders had made sandwiches with the leftover lamb and a salad on the side.  It was easy, filling, and fast. They washed it down with the last of the Akvavit and decided to take a shower before spending the night in - in bed, that is.

Anders barely made it to the bedroom before Mitchell yanked off his towel and all but devoured him with a deep kiss.  Mitchell’s own towel never left the bathroom. He pushed and walked and finally just picked Anders up in his hurry to get them on the bed.  Anders bounced lightly from the impact but was soon anchored by the taller vampire hovering over him. Any argument over who was bottoming ended abruptly when Mitchell sucked a mark on Anders’ collarbone and the blond ground up into his lover, spreading his legs to get closer.

Mitchell fumbled in the side table drawer and grabbed the first bottle of lube he found.  He glopped a bit on his hand and rubbed it liberally around the root of Anders’ crease before slipping a finger in and looking for the magic nub.

Anders moaned, “More lube, John.”

Mitchell squirted half the bottle into the crevice and slid his finger back in.  Anders was writhing beneath him, but not the usual way,

“Ahhh... more lube,” the blond groaned.

Mitchell stopped, concerned.

Anders looked up at him, annoyed, “Why did you stop?”

Unceremoniously, Mitchell flipped Anders on his stomach and spreads his cheeks.

“Yeeeeesssss…” Anders cried, expecting tongue.

“Nooooo…” was Mitchell’s surprising reply.

Head turned to look over his shoulder, Anders tried to prop himself up on one elbow but Mitchell held him firmly in place.  “What the fuck, John?”

“Babe, you're cherry red down here!  We're going to the hospital!” He released Anders and jumped off the bed looking for clothes.

“Noooooo!” Anders cried out, “you’re not going to get me all worked up and take me to the hospital with a stiffy!  Get back here, lie down, and I’ll re-pop your century old cherry instead.”

Mitchell sat on the bed.  “Anders,” he swallowed, hard, “What if it’s serious?”

Anders twisted around, sat up, and took Mitchell’s hands in his own.  “John, I’ll be fine. There was a guy when I was in college. He and his girlfriend decided to have a carpet picnic of French bread, pepperoni, and cheese during a weekend away so they wouldn’t have to leave their hotel room.”

Mitchell looked at him with big worried puppy eyes, but nodded.

“Well, the girl should have gotten salami because the guy had a sensitive system or something.  An hour after they ate, he comes out of the bathroom going, ‘Honey, I shit fire.’ Needless to say, there was no more sex that weekend.  He was a wimp.”

Mitchell did not look like the story helped.

“All I’m saying is that it’s probably something I ate.  It will pass in a few hours. If you really don’t want me to exert myself, you can ride me.  Happy?”

Reluctantly, Mitchell gave in.  Horny, unsatisfied Anders was cranky Anders.  And really, how could he say no to sex with his golden god.  He stayed awake the rest of the night, however, watching Anders sleep, watching him breathe, making sure nothing went bad.

 

The sunrise started lighting their room shortly after 7:00 the next morning.  That’s when Mitchell noticed the red splotches radiating up Anders’ torso. He yanked off the covers and saw that the same splotches extended down his legs.

Anders was blearily rubbing one eye and trying to become fully conscious as Mitchell tried to wrap him in the blanket and lift him from the bed.  He kicked and flailed. “I am not a child! What are you doing?”

Great.  Cranky. Definitely sick, Mitchell thought to himself.  “Look at your skin! We need to go to a hospital.”

“You know how I feel about hospitals.  Am I dying?”

Mitchell looked stricken.

“I am not dying.  Therefore no need for a hospital.  Call Michelle if you absolutely need a medical opinion, but I am not going to the hospital.”  He crossed his arms and pretended he wasn’t pouting.

Michelle had the decency not to laugh until she got off the phone.  She also refrained from telling Mike what was wrong because she wasn’t in the mood to heal two Johnsons, and Mitchell just might eat Mike if he made a wrong move around a sick Anders.  How had she gotten herself messed up with this family? Oh right, she was the goddess of love and they fucked like gods.

Half an hour later, Anders was still sulking, Mitchell was explaining why Anders wouldn’t be in the office to Dawn, and Michelle was knocking at the front door.  She marched right in when Mitchell opened it and headed to the bedroom.

Anders pulled the covers up to his chin when she entered.

“Oh my gods!  Are you suddenly shy?  I’ve seen you naked. Roll over.”  

But Anders was shy, because he was sick THERE and John was in the room.

Mitchell knelt next to him and held his hand. “I know you two had a relationship.  I know you hate being sick. But I’m here and I’m not going anywhere. Please let her take a look.  Do it for me.”

Anders nodded and rolled over.  Michelle was surprisingly gentle.  Having a worried vampire staring her down within biting distance put things into perspective.  In the end, she gave Mitchell a prescription for some cream to apply to the affected areas and some antihistamines for Anders to take orally until the rash was gone completely.  She did enjoy pointing out that drinking alcohol with antihistamines could damage Anders’ liver, so he would have to watch the blond carefully. She also suggested icing the most affected areas.  She gave Anders a parting shot, literally, of Benadryl that knocked him out.

While Anders slept, Mitchell called the chemist and ordered the prescriptions.  They promised to have them delivered by 5:00. With nothing else to do, he gathered up their clothes and started a load of laundry.  Then he did a bit of tidying, figuring it would make Anders happy when he awoke. A used condom in the bedroom bin gave him an idea.

Quietly opening the nightstand on the side of the bed farthest from the sleeping man, Mitchell withdrew a strip of condoms.  He took them to the kitchen sink and carefully filled each one as if it were just a strangely shaped water balloon. Then he laid them in the freezer and made himself a cup of tea.

The delivery from the chemist came early and he had time to read all the inserts.  He set up a tray with the pill bottle, a glass for water, the cream, and the softest flannel he could find.  He set it next to the refrigerator so he could fill the water glass and be ready as soon as Anders drifted back to consciousness.  Then he put the kettle on, peeked in to check on still-sleeping Anders, made another cup of tea, and settled onto the couch to wait.

Anders padded softly into the kitchen.  Mitchell was asleep on the couch. He probably hadn’t slept all night worrying over him.  He saw the tray and smiled, full of love for the vampire who went to so much trouble for someone who didn’t even believe he was worth it most of the time.  He grabbed the pill bottle and opened the freezer to grab the bottle of vodka.

He closed the freezer, put down the pills, and rubbed his eyes.

He opened the freezer again.  He hadn’t been hallucinating. There was a line of frozen condoms filled with god knows what laying right in front of the ice cream.  He stood there staring and didn’t hear Mitchell come up behind him.

“Michelle said to ice the affected areas…”

“Aiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii!”  Anders did not scream like a little girl and have to be caught and held by strong familiar arms to calm down.

The condomsicles lay in the open freezer, mocking him.  He grabbed the vodka and shut the door. Mitchell was busy filling the water glass and turned around to see Anders wash down his antihistamine pill with a swig of vodka.  He was horrified.

“Stop that or you'll never be able to drink booze ever again!”  Mitchell yelled.

Anders face went white.

Mitchell thought he was going to faint and rushed to support him.

“Down boy,” Anders admonished.  “I know Michelle made you my watchdog, but I don’t need you to guard me like a three headed hell hound.  Besides you only have two heads.”

Mitchell sat down and banged his head on the table.

“Can’t you just suck whatever it is out of me?”

“That was one time, Anders!  And it was only because you were so drunk that I thought you were going to die of alcohol poisoning!  All I could do was take as much as you could lose and pray that I got enough alcohol to make a difference.  You treat your body like a tent when you should treat it like a temple. I’ll follow you when you die, Anders Johnson, so try to think about me when you do stupid things like take medication with alcohol.  You could permanently damage your liver.”

Anders looked chastened for thirty whole seconds.  Then he got the giggles.

Mitchell threw his hands in the air like he was giving up.

“I’m sorry, John,” he gasped out between what was becoming full throated laughs.  “I just imagined trying to get a liver donor from my family.” He snorted. “Olaf’s is pickled.  Mikkel’s is probably gnarled and angry. Ty’s is frozen.”

Mitchell tried and failed to hold back a laugh.

“And Axl?  Odin, the mighty?  He’d probably refuse on the grounds that something might happen and we’d all die.”

“Then let’s keep yours healthy, shall we?”  Mitchell drew Anders into a kiss with an arm around his neck while he used the other arm to take away the vodka.

Anders leaned back and into the kiss, fisting his hands into Mitchell’s shirt to pull him closer.  The he leaned away and waggled his eyebrows, “Let’s see what we can do with those condomsicles.” He grabbed one from the freezer and shook his butt seductively as he walked away.

Mitchell winced at the way he still walked funny and grabbed the cream from the tray.

By the time Mitchell rubbed that frozen condom on his over-sensitive hole and worked him open just enough to slip it inside, Anders came from the temperature play alone.  Between the orgasm, the antihistamine, and the vodka he was slipping away quickly. He kept trying to stay awake and stop Mitchell from massaging the cream in which was only relaxing him more.  He wanted to make Mitchell cum too. But it was no use, by the time Mitchell finished his back and the less sensitive parts of his front, Anders was snoring. He carefully applied the cream to the sensitive places, making Anders moan twice in his sleep.  Then he took a shower and hoped tomorrow would be better.

 

Golden Dawn by Carlos Santana interrupted a lovely dream in which he and Anders spent a quiet day at home with no brothers, goddesses, or problems to bother them.  Dawn could wait. He’d call her back later. He slipped back into dreamland.

 

_ Yo, VIP, let's kick it! _  Mitchell sat straight up in bed.   _ Ice Ice Baby… (not the beat from Under Pressure)... Ice Ice Baby... _  He flailed at his phone to shut it off.   _ All right stop, Collaborate and listen… _  Finally, he shut off the ringing. What did Ty want?  He looked over to where Anders was not and had a sinking feeling.  He rang Ty back.

“Bro!  Where the hell have you been.  Dawn’s been calling you. What were you thinking letting Anders go to the office in his state?”

Mitchell couldn’t get in a word edgewise as Ty continued to badger him about Anders, the worry he was causing Dawn, and as many other things as a Johnson brother could work in.  He used the time to pull on pants, find a shirt and grab his keys. Ready to go out the door, he finally had to yell into the phone to crack the icy tirade. “Ty! How did he get there?  He was in no shape to drive.”

“He took a taxi, but…” and he continued on a whole new diatribe.  Mitchell just hung up. It was something he took great pleasure in doing to Anders’ brothers because Anders could never bring himself to do it.  He pulled his shirt over his head. Then he locked the door behind him and called Dawn while walking out to their SUV.

“Mitchell, thank god!  He can’t be here like this.  We have a big meeting this afternoon.  I can cover it but they can’t see him like this.  I’ve got him holed up in his office looking for the perfect pool boy model now, but it’s awful and so sad.”

“What’s he doing?”

“It’s like he’s drunk, but not Anders drunk, sad and lost drunk.”

“That’s the meds.  I’m on my way. See you in ten.”

Mitchell was there in eight minutes.  Anders was indeed sad and lost and confused and drowsy and had a helpful side of nausea.  Mitchell scooped him up in a bridal carry and headed for the door after one look at him.

“Dawnsie!  I’m being kidnapped!  I can’t be the boss you deserve if he takes me away!”  Mitchell stopped and Dawn kissed Anders on his clammy forehead.

“You are the boss I deserve.  Now let John take you home so you can get better and come back to be my boss.  I’ll take care of things here until then.”

Anders smiled like an innocent child, “ You are the best, Dawnsie.  I couldn’t do this without you.”

“I know.  And I love you too.  Now out!” She pushed the couple out the door and closed it so she could clean up Anders’ mess, again.

 

“John, she loves me.  Did you hear that?” Anders looked incredulous.  “I’m still waiting for you to tell me it’s all a joke and you’re tired of my shit, but she loves me.  Nobody loves me, not even my family.”

Mitchell tucked Anders into the passenger seat and buckled him in.  Then he had to pause as he crossed behind the vehicle to breathe deeply and regain his composure.  He reminded himself that he loved Anders and that he knew Anders loved him. And one day he would see that those brothers understood what they had done.  He took another deep breath, pasted a smile on his face, and hopped in the driver seat. 

“Babe?”

Anders smiled at him full of love and innocence.  It was enough to melt his dead heart into a pool of goo.

“Babe, did you take your medicine this morning?”

Anders nodded, “I took it with water to make you happy.  I even left a note on the tray with the empty water bottle so you’d believe me.  But I took two so I would feel better faster so I could help Dawnsie.” He smiled again, dimples deep, and blinking slow.

“Oh, that explains it.  It just the medicine making you feel like this.  You’ll be okay. We’ll get home and make you feel all better.”

Anders frowned, “It’s just the medicine that’s making me feel loved?”

Thankfully, Mitchell had not pulled out into traffic.  He put the car in park and turned to Anders. “No, God no.  I love you no matter what. Dawn does too. Even Olaf. How we feel about you has nothing to do with your meds.  We love you, period.”

Anders looked thoughtful, like the concept just wasn’t quite within his grasp.  But he stopped looking sad. “Can we go home now?”

“Sure,” Mitchell said, “Maybe we can rest on the couch and watch The Real Hustle together?”

“Okay.”

Shite.  Maybe he was dying.  Every time they stopped at a stoplight, he added a bit more to a text to Michelle.  He managed to hit send at the last light before they got home. Michelle was there before the tea was ready.  And she brought the stick.

Anders took one look at the branch of Ygdrassil and screamed.  “Noooo! I know what you did to that guy with rectal cancer. You’re not shoving that thing up my ass!”  He ran behind Mitchell.

Mitchell was so done.  “Put the fecking stick over there in the corner and sit at the table like a decent human being, Michelle.”  He turned to the still frightened Anders behind him, “We’re just going to sit at the table and talk, okay?”

Anders agreed, but kept Mitchell between himself and Michelle and the stick.

“Look, Michelle, Anders behavior is completely out of character on this medication you’ve prescribed.  I’m worried about his mental health as well as his physical health. Can you use the stick to heal him without knowing the exact cause of the allergy or do we have to continue dealing with these side effects?”

“I can heal him physically, but he’ll still be in danger from whatever caused the reaction in the first place.  I was hoping he’d eat it again and we’d catch it.”

“Eat?” Mitchell asked, “The only thing we’ve had different was the Norwegian food for our Christmas in July.”

“Norwegian?”  She paused. “Did you eat lutefisk?”

Anders quietly watched them discuss it like he wasn’t even there.

“Yeah.  Anders loved it.  I barely got any.”

Michelle sat back, “I wonder…. I need to run to the chemist.  Stay here and don’t let him eat or drink anything but water.” Then she turned and really looked at Anders for the first time, “It’s going to be okay, Andy.”

 

Mitchell got each of them a bottle of water and they moved to the couch.  Anders was less clammy and more like himself, but still clingy and quiet.

“Want to listen to some Rat Pack and dance with me?”  Mitchell asked when the water was gone. They slow danced around the living room to Strangers in the Night, Everybody Loves Somebody, and I’ve Gotta Be Me.

They were in the middle of You're Nobody till Somebody Loves You when Michelle let herself back it, brown paper bag in hand.  She waited silently by the door until the song finished and vowed, as goddess of love, never to let the other Johnsons malign this couple again.

 

“Hey,” she interrupted, “I need you to wash Anders’ hands with this, please, Mitchell.”  She handed him a bar of Grandma’s Lye Soap.

Anders was used to being the one expected to do the caring and had a bit of a struggle relaxing and letting Mitchell do the work of washing his hands.  But he even let Mitchell dry them with a clean towel. They both looked at Michelle expectantly.

“Now we wait,” she shrugged, “it shouldn’t be long.”

She was right.  Within minutes, Anders was scratching his hands.  When she asked to see them, the splotches had already begun to appear.  That confirmed her suspension. “It’s lye. He’s allergic to lye. It’s so seldom used anymore that we probably never would have known.  If he hadn’t eaten so much of the lutefisk, we might not know now.”

Mitchell looked scandalized.  “I did this?”

“No!  You had absolutely no way of knowing.”

Anders voice was soft, “But I really liked the lutefisk.”

Michelle smiled at him, genuinely, “And you can have it any time you want.  We just know now that Mitchell needs to make it with fresh local fish instead of the traditionally preserved fish.  Anyone can develop an allergy to anything. It’s not anyone’s fault.”

“So what do we do?” Mitchell asked.

“Well, first we heal him with the stick and then you two make sure he doesn’t get into any more lye.  And if he does, I’ll come heal him again. Keep the allergy meds around just in case.”

A few minutes later, Anders was healed, the not so useless stick having gone nowhere near his bum, and Michelle was gone.

Mitchell pulled Anders close, and sniffed his neck. “You smell delicious.”

“I thought you wanted to watch The Real Hustle?”

Mitchell looked gobsmacked.  “Really?”

Consider it a Christmas in July present.  How can I refuse anything to someone who loves me.”

Mitchell pulled Anders in for a kiss.   But they never saw The Real Hustle that night.  They pulled the throw from the couch and made out amongst the holiday glitz, knocked over the tree, and ended up throwing snowballs at each other naked on the balcony.

If a white Christmas was what they needed to feel like this, who could tell them that they couldn’t have two Christmases every year.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Behind the scenes... 
> 
> Anders jumper is my favorite Christmas t-shirt
> 
> The wimp who shat fire is my ex-husband and I’m the girl who should have bought salami.
> 
> I have lutefisk for Christmas Eve supper every year.
> 
> My son was allergic to oranges as a baby and the rash appeared just like Anders’.


End file.
